IC: The Sun Never Sets, IC thread for The Sun Never Sets Options

[pbangarth]

"Well," says Stogie as he returns to the fire, "it looks like the magic of this place likes us, too. I sure get a jolt when I apply some of my skills. I bet Smohalla will have some interesting things to tell us when he returns." Stogie calls to Jake, "OK, boy. That'll do. Go get busy." he indicates a dense patch of forest. Jake trundles off to relieve himself. Stogie checks out the cooking. "Anything I can do to help? Always eager to learn new recipes."

[Tecumseh]

A heavy weight seems to have descended over Ellie. Her mood of defiance has passed; she is now withdrawn and brooding. The forest has been her home and sanctuary, but what if the forest is now crawling with hired goons that want nothing so much as to riddle her with hot lead? A disconcerting thought, to say the least. You can almost see the news sink in further as her brow continues to knit deeper and deeper.

She works on dinner silently, alone in her thoughts. She barely acknowledges Stogie's offer to help; it seems that dinner is almost ready anyway. She takes a ladle and dips it into the pot over the fire, filling a white ceramic bowl that's not quite china but still much too nice for a campsite in the mountains. She reaches into another pot and sprinkles something over the bowls before silently handing them to Ellesar and Stogie. She sets a bowl out for Jake, takes some for herself, then retreats into the woods. Hester and Selene help themselves before following Ellie out.

Dinner is a potage of goat and autumn root vegetables, including potatoes, carrots, and beets. The broth is very light and ever-so-slightly bitter in an herbal sense, but pleasantly so. Examining it further, Stogie sees that it was made with nettles, which are abundant around here. Before serving, she sprinkled the bowls with dark purple huckleberries, the flavor of which balances both the broth and the goat wonderfully well. Huckleberries usually aren't available this late in the year, so either Ellie set these aside for a special occasion or the dry weather extended the season. Wherever he is, whatever he's doing, it's almost certain that Mr. Ellie isn't eating as well as he used to. The woman is a wizard!

[AtroposReborn]

"It really is a shame," Ellesar manages after swallowing another small portion of the mixture. "That we're not going to be able to eat like this forever, I mean. We can't stay here. I can't stay here. Things just seem so puzzling."

He looks around cautiously, hoping that nobody can hear him. His voice lowers slightly. "There isn't a time limit on this job and I'm sure if we just stayed here they would simply think us killed. But that doesn't change the fact that people want these ladies dead, or at least out of the way. And they're surely not about to just stop what they're doing. I'm all for helping others but something's gotta give. If they're sending more people here eventually things are going to come to a head and we're going to have to make a decision. A tough decision." He sighs and lowers his head to stare into his bowl. "I really hope something turns up tomorrow."

[pbangarth]

Jake gets up and walks slowly over to Ellesar. He sits beside the brooding man and gently pokes his arm a couple of times with a wet nose and looks directly into Ellesar's face. He seems ready to be petted.

[AtroposReborn]

Ellesar chuckles lightly to himself. "Good to see someone is in good spirits. We can always count on you, can't we boy?" He smiles and scratches Jake behind the ears.

[phlapjack77]

Smohalla briefly opens one eye, a gleaming orb peaking out from beneath a wing that covers the shaman's tucked-in head. Not much light is penetrating the protective cocoon he's wrapped in, but Smohalla realizes he doesn't need sight while the spirit keeps watch. Like a spider that monitors vibrations along it's web, the eagle is able to sense what happens in his lair through this mystical bond with the spirit of the forest. Something that recently sent vibrations up and down the web has brought him awake with the lightest of touches to his mind. Reaching out through the spirit-summoner link, he receives images, brief impressions, of feathers and flight and death. Normally this kind of sensorium could confuse or dismay the summoner, but to Smohalla's predatory instincts, all is clear as day. Further queries to the spirit reveal nothing else of import has happened this night.

Smohalla closes his eye and buries his head further under the feathery covers.

[pbangarth]

Jake leans into the scratching and sort of snort-grunts.

Stogie comes over and sits beside Ellesar. "Yeah, he's a good reader of people's spirits. He's pulled me through some tough times. I agree with you. It's a tough decision. Things I've done don't seem all that far better than what the ladies here say they are doing. I don't know who to believe.

"What I don't get yet is why the ladies have upped their game lately. I've danced around the idea, but no answer has come. I guess I'm just going to have to come out and ask it. As far as I can see, they are set in their desire to keep this place protected, but I don't think they are out and out murderers. Finding a way to compromise may be tough, but it's better than killing them ourselves. So maybe, just maybe, we will have to side with them against other attackers until we can convince them to tone down their actions. But we need to know why they do what they are doing now."

Stogie sighs. "Well, I think Smohalla has set himself up somewhere for the night, so it's just you and me. You do watch duty first, and after three hours or so, I'll take over for the rest of the night. That alright with you?"

[AtroposReborn]

Ellesar mulls over Stogie's words in his head. "Yeah, that's fine," he says quietly.

[Tecumseh]

A high wind rises suddenly and eats most of Ellesar's reply. The tree tops bend deeply, their tops shaking like rattles. An uncomfortably cold blast cuts through Jake's fur and starts him shivering. The fire, which had been burning steadily with little variation, finally flickers. The flames dip lower, waiting for a pause between gusts before cautiously reemerging, only to be chased down again.

Stogie settles himself in as close to the fire as he dares. Jake does his best to use Stogie as a wind break, hunkering low to the ground to avoid the frigid sweep of the wind's reach.

As he digs in for his watch, Ellesar is quietly grateful that he opted for the additional cold insulation on his camouflage suit. He turns the collar up and puts his back to the fire so that he can see the surrounding woods without his night-vision being blinded by what's left of the flames. He'd rather be in motion to keep warm, but moving away from the fire is too painful to contemplate. The draft bites at his face, watering his eyes and running his nose.

Over the whistling wind, there's a distant sound. A hollow, mournful note descends from somewhere in the surrounding hills. It sounds like a plaintive pan-pipe, sad and lost, but whether it's from an instrument or just some cave in the mountainside is too much to tell. It pushes melancholy memories into Ellesar's head: recollections of some meaningless fight with Alatariel, a childhood illness of Gilraen's that he had no power to comfort, old friends from Tir disowning him and casting him away.

The sound ebbs and Ellesar wonders if he just imagined it. The air has a certain menace to it tonight. These are not the familiar woods with which Ellesar is well-acquainted and comfortable. This is the forest of which the shifter spoke: for some, great power - for others, great danger.

[Tecumseh]

The vibration that nudged Smohalla awake shakes him again. The tree shudders and quakes, throwing off Smohalla's balance. The valley is channeling a strong wind, sending it through the treetops at full force. The evergreens groan with aches as they are forced to stretch. The boughs rub together roughly, the bark rasping and cracking. Smohalla looks out of his protective shell and sees the naked fingers of a tree branch stabbing at him. Its reach falls just short, the tree swaying like a one-sided metronome in the growing gale.

The darkness here is all-encompassing. The moon has not risen. The astral world shows a great commotion as all the life in the area is whipped this way and that. Smohalla assenses the wind, trying to pick apart its nature. It's magically charged, but what isn't around here? The water, the ground, and everything above and below is permeated with the mana of the place. The wind is no different. Air spirits chase each other in a flurry far above, oblivious to the night and its rhythms.

Smohalla feels his perch flex. The wind rips through the shelter of leaves around him. The plant spirit responds by enfolding him deeper, embracing him in a swirl of thick vines that weave together like a basket. The wind is kept out but there's nothing to do about the agitations of the tree. The surrounding branches quaver as they convulse; they vibrate like chattering bones as they clatter against each other like Lummi sticks. There might be music in it, wind instruments producing a symphony of percussion.

The music is interrupted by an explosion, a fierce detonation not far from where Smohalla rests. The turbulence of the storm continues on unabated.

[phlapjack77]

Smohalla awakes, feeling as if a giant hole had suddenly been torn through his tiny web.

Adrenaline pounding, he stays as still as his quivering muscles allow.

His first thought is for the spirit of the forest, asking for an explanation and protection.

The next thought is to send a small puff of will, a fluttering sparrow of mana, back to warn his companions.

Then his astral self silently slips from his physical body and wings towards the source of the explosion.

[Tecumseh]

A small, wingéd watcher in the shape of a sparrow departs from Smohalla, panting as it bobs and weaves through the astral currents. Maybe it's just a play for sympathy: while it's certainly more challenging to fly - even astrally - under these conditions, it still only takes about three seconds for the watcher to make its way back to camp and present itself to Ellesar. It opens its little beak to announce its news, only to realize it doesn't have a proper report to file. It waits for an update, leaving Ellesar to wonder if the night and its sorrowful tune are playing further tricks on his mind.

Back at Smohalla's perch, the plant spirit is a bit perplexed about how best to respond to Smohalla's request. Concealing and guarding the site requires its continued presence, limiting its ability to act as Smohalla's wingman. Furthermore, the spirit gently points out that it's the only thing keeping Smohalla's limp eagle body from falling to the forest floor. While projecting, the dispossessed body is no match for the violent swaying of the tree as it bends and buckles in the wind. If the spirit is to come to Smohalla's aid, it respectfully suggests that it doesn't have a particularly safe location for the eagle's body, as setting it on the ground seems unwise, at best.

Thus Smohalla is on his own. Acting quickly, his astral self flies in the direction of the explosion. He gets a reasonably good look at the surrounding area but the source of the blast is not immediately obvious. There is no fire, nor any men or machines that he can see. In fact, it's not even quite clear what exploded, or where. He knows the direction, and it sounded close - perhaps a hundred meters - but Smohalla's sense of hearing is limited and it's possible that the sound carried along the walls of the mountain valley from some distant place.

[phlapjack77]

Smohalla agrees with the plant spirit's assessment and continues on his own.

But he realizes he does not have to be alone in this endeavor.

Out of the surrounding torrent of mana, he draws out two small shapes, molding them with his will.

Two small starlings take form on the astral, hovering near Smohalla's glowing body.

He asks them to aid his search, sending mental pictures of fire and destruction in the forest as search patterns for the explosion.

[pbangarth]

A small spirit manifests near Ellesar. Stogie waits for it to communicate, but seems to hesitate. He opens his mind to the astral. "Who sent you, little one?" he asks in the astral communication that needs no words.

[Tecumseh]

Astrally, the watcher spirit in front of Ellesar bears the clear imprint of Smohalla. As if to make the point even more obvious, its manifestation morphs into an eaglet. It flexes gamely, adding a little grr for good measure in an amusing if not entirely accurate impression of its summoner, before returning to its original manifestation as a sparrow.

Smohalla's search is not producing any results. He scours the valley and surrounding hillsides at a speed that only the astral allows, but to no avail. The first hour crawls by and neither he nor his watchers have anything to show for it. Granted, searching astrally is a headache, especially given the conditions. The vibrancy of the area, combined with the chaotic flailing of all the plant life in the mana-infused wind, produces a sense of vertigo not unlike trying to pick out an image in a tie-dye t-shirt viewed through a constantly moving kaleidoscopic. The tempest is dizzying.

[pbangarth]

Stogie chuckles, " I think Smohalla forgot to word his instructions carefully enough for this one." He tries again, "Little one, please guide us to your master." He doesn't have much hope that it is free willed enough to do so, but it can't hurt to try.

[phlapjack77]

Smohalla senses the confusion in his Watcher spirit that he sent to his friends.

He asks it to relay the following message, and to give him any replies.

I heard an explosion. I am searching but have not yet found where it happened.

[AtroposReborn]

Ellesar just sits and stares at both the polymorph bird and Stogie. "This chill must be worse than I thought. Stogie, are you saying that this...bird belongs to our friend?" The elf reaches out to touch the creature, steadying his hand in the nippy wind. "Did he think we were lonely without him?"

[pbangarth]

"Yeah, Ellesar. This is a spirit he sent to us with a message. It just told me that Smohalla just heard an explosion, and is checking it out. I have no idea where he is though. I'll try to find out."

In the astral, Stogie emotes, "Where is your master?"

From behind Stogie, Jake slowly stalks the manifested bird, slinking slowly towards it, his every, measured movement saying, "You can't see me. You can't see me."

[Tecumseh]

The watcher stares at Stogie and blinks languidly. In response to his question, it points in Smohalla's direction. Then it returns to looking at Ellesar blankly.

After scouring the mountainside, Smohalla's persistence is reaching its end. He knows he must rest for the coming day. Whatever exploded is undetectable from the astral realm. There's still no trace of anyone or anything out of place. He sees no human nor machines, nor anything else unusual for mountains and valleys. There are no exploding spirits (thankfully) or erupting mountains (especially thankfully). Whatever passed will either reveal itself at daylight or remain a mystery, but there does not appear to be any immediate danger. Smohalla's mind returns to his eagle form. He glances around the pitch black night before closing his eyes (which changes the scenery not a jot) and attempting to sleep.

[phlapjack77]

Just before sleep claims him, Smohalla sends one last message to his friends via the Watcher.

I could not find the source of the explosion, and will sleep now. The morning may bring more information.

With this, Smohalla releases the three Watchers from service.

[pbangarth]

As the nearly helpful watcher disappears following its last message, Stogie turns to Ellesar. He chokes up momentarily when he sees Jake still in the slinking stalk of the spirit. "Well, Smohalla doesn't seem to be in any trouble. We might as well get back to our schedule. Wake me in a bit." He curls up by the fire again, and calls Jake to him. Jake makes water on the ground below where the spirit was, and returns to his master, curling up in the crook of his knees.

[AtroposReborn]

Ellesar maintains a general look of confusion throughout the encounter. "Yeah, will do," he replies as Stogie returns to his slumber. He tries to keep focused on his surroundings but finds his mind wandering back to the wolfman.

[Tecumseh]

Now that the minor excitement of Smohalla's watcher has passed, Ellesar returns his attention to the night landscape while Stogie beds down for a few hours of sleep. The wind is still steady but the gusts don't seem as strong as they were a few minutes ago. The music that Ellesar heard (or imagined) is gone (or isn't). He has nothing but his thoughts and his task to distract him from the cold frost biting at his face.

The night inches by. Ellesar stays awake but is still quite startled when Stogie lurches up suddenly, rested and alert and ready for his shift. Ellesar is only too happy to trade places, burrowing into his sleeping bag next to the fire. Jake wakes up long enough to shift his allegiance to Ellesar and his body heat. He nestles in between the elf and the fire, privately telling Stogie to wake him if he needs something but actually don't unless Stogie's being dragged into the woods by a barghest and only then if the situation's really out of Stogie's control in which case Jake won't be much help so don't bother really. Good night and good luck.

But there's no barghest tonight, nor hellhounds, nor even a wolf. All the good little animals of the forest seem to be taking cover from the windstorm, sheltered in their cozy dens, bundled in their thick winter coats next to their warm, softly breathing family members. Stogie, in contrast, has his hands up his sleeves and is wondering if he could layer his camo jacket over his armor jacket over his urban jumpsuit and still be able to move. What if he just used his adept boosts if he actually needed to move? A tempting thought. Alternatively, going all Incredible Hulk under three layers of armor might result in a cataclysmic implosion not unlike a Type II supernova with equally spectacular and destructive results. Would his neck and head pop clean off? Perish the thought. But these are the directions your mind wanders when you have six or seven hours to kill on a cold autumn night alone in the mountains. It's either that or listen in on Jake's dreams, and those are just really out there.

But pass the night does. Stogie survives, chilled but uneaten. The winds sweep away the clouds covering the moon, then eventually die down themselves. A crisp light emerges in the east, the sun fulfilling its promise yet again. A new day is upon you.

[phlapjack77]

The eagle wakes up and feels the spirit of the forest departing with the coming dawn.

The cocoon slowly lowers it's leafy barrier from around his body as the rest of the thorny barriers recede.

Smohalla ritually waters the surrounding plants in thanks and praise for the spirit's service.